


Royalguard

by sakkajagga



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dante/female!Reader, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Violence, NSFW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakkajagga/pseuds/sakkajagga
Summary: With your father being an influential business man, it has made you a target for ransom ever since you were a child; but bodyguards always seemed to have had a hard time keeping up with you, who wants no part in being babysat.  Enter Dante, now charged with keeping you safe despite this not being the type of job he’d normally take.  You quickly find that his inexperience with being a bodyguard seems to work abnormally in his favor.





	Royalguard

**Author's Note:**

> for ancientwhitefire(on tumblr) who wanted to see a similar scenario to Bodyguard, but with Dante. i did my best to make it its own so it wasn’t TOO similar–and i’m sorry for how long this took @_@;; and for how carried away i got??? i hope it’s okay ;3;~♥

   “ _ What _ ?”  Using his forefinger to push down the corner of the magazine, Dante shot Morrison a bewildered, almost offended, look, “You’re kidding, right?”

   “Have I ever steered you wrong before?”  Morrison reached up to push his hat further back on his head with his thumb.  He immediately followed up when Dante opened his mouth to retort, “Besides, can you really afford to turn down this job?”

   “Babysitting??” he closed and tossed the magazine on his desk next to where his feet were kicked up

   “Bodyguarding,” Morrison cut in to correct him.

   “Give it to the kid, he’s better suited to that kinda thing.”

   “Nero’s already on another job,” he pulled a check from his jacket pocket as he came closer to the desk so that Dante could more easily see the writing on it.  “And take a look at this number.” Dante’s brows shot up, looking between his friend and the paper a few times as if trying to determine if this was a joke or not.  “And that’s only  _ half _ .”

   “Half??”  When he reached up to grab at it, Morrison jerked his hand back.

   “Yeah, and only if you agree.”  When the devil hunter relented with a sigh, he chuckled, also producing a file from his jacket and dropping it on the desk’s surface.  “There’s everything you need to know.”

  
  


   You watched your father talking to the newly hired bodyguard, listening as he apologized to the comic-book-hero looking guy for knowing this wasn’t the type of job he’d be used to, but that his expertise was required.  He definitely didn’t seem as professional as the others that’d been hired before, but there was something about him that was different other than  _ that _ \--you just couldn’t put your finger on it.  Mostly you were just impressed that someone actually dressed like that; muddy boots, worn fingerless gloves, and a long leather coat--red to boot.  If nothing else he looked like he’d have some mighty entertaining stories to tell.

   Not moving when you were introduced formally, you waved with your hand that wasn’t propping up your chin.  Your father sighed, shaking his head at you, but you were staring down Dante, gauging his reaction and determining that he was just as unhappy about this arrangement as you were.  Going on to talk about attempted kidnappings and explaining why he wanted someone capable of slaying monsters to keep you safe, your father then granted Dante to be on the clock; relinquishing you to be left in his hands.

   He turned to you, looking like he was sizing you up, but not saying anything.  “What??” you demanded, wanting to know why he was just staring.

   “Do you just hang out in your dad’s office all day, or…?”  He gestured to the room, “Because you’re gonna make my job pretty easy, if so.”

   You scoffed, hopping down from the desk and walking right passed him to leave.  No sooner than you were both outside the office, and the doors closed, you turned to Dante, “Okay, that was some nice acting, but you can go now.”

   “Beg your pardon?”

   “I know you don’t want to be here, and I’m sure you can tell I don’t want someone shadowing me.”  The way he was lazily smiling was not a good sign. “So you can go do whatever, I’ll go do my thing, and we’ll both tell my father what a wonderful job you’re doing.  Sound good?”

   “What if you get kidnapped?”  He quirked a brow at you, jerking his thumb to point over his shoulder, “Your pops seemed pretty sure someone is after you right.  This. Second.”

   “He’s exaggerating.”  He wasn’t. But you weren’t going to admit that out loud.  “That hasn’t happened since I was a child,” you lied, waving your hand as if to dismiss the very idea.

   “Oh, so you think you’re an adult now?”  His pale blue gaze gave you a once over.

   He even had the audacity to smirk when your brows furrowed, “So that makes you, what?  A grandpa??”

  Dante feigned offense, dramatically putting a hand to his chest, “Whipping me with insults before you even know me?  No wonder you chased off all your other bodyguards.”

   You could feel your eye twitch--was this guy really serious right now?  He seemed to enjoy standing there mocking you whereas most others would at least TRY to be polite in hopes of impressing your father (or you).  Not him though; Dante didn’t seem to care either way, looking so laid back about it all that you couldn’t understand why he wasn’t just agreeing to get paid to do nothing.  “Glad we’re on the same page,” you stuck out your hand to be shaken, “So we agree on going our separate ways until we need to been together to pretend like you’ve been watching me?”

   “No can do, little lady,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

   “What?  Why not?”  You didn’t give him a chance to answer, resolving right then and there to just ditch him.  “Well, fine. But don’t blame me when you’re just bored all the time.” Dante simply shrugged and then gestured with his hand for you to lead the way to whatever it was you were going to do.  Without another word, you turned on your heel and rushed forward, figuring the easiest way to lose him would be slipping out of a window while he stood guard at the door. Naturally, that meant the restroom was your destination; briefly telling him to wait for you and ignoring the somehow knowing look he was giving you before closing yourself inside.

   It was a public restroom, so you had to work quickly; turning on the faucets in both sinks before carefully climbing up to the window and shoving it open to stick your leg through, followed by the rest of your body.  You’d used this method so many times by now that you didn’t even have to really look at your feet as you braced yourself against the building and it’s little ledges that stuck out so you could climb down without hurting an ankle.  “Sorry, Dante,” you halfheartedly muttered, dusting of your hands.

  
  


   You’d only been on your own for a little over an hour when you’re time was cut short, but for the frightened little boy clinging to your leg, you didn’t mind as much.  He’d been separated from his mother in the nearby park and when you’d asked him what the matter was, he suddenly burst out into tears. Kneeling down so that he wasn’t just wailing into your leg, you let the child hug you; patting his back and trying to calm him down enough so that he could hear you offer to take him to find his mother.  With his tiny hand clasped in yours, you both strolled the sidewalk all the way back to the park he’d wandered from. On the lookout for a frantic woman, you were immediately uneasy when man ran up to tap your shoulder and began thanking you for finding his son. Putting the boy behind your leg, you carefully explained that he’d said he’d lost his mother, to which the guy assured you that his wife was on the other side of the park.  Letting the child out from behind you so that he could reunite with his dad, you watched in relief when the boy lit up and jumped on him.

   “I’m sorry…” you said once they had a moment to get over their excitement, “it’s just that--”

   “Oh, it’s okay,” he assured you, standing and holding the kid on his hip, “I’m glad it was someone like you that found him.”  The three of you exchanged farewells, the little boy waving over his father’s shoulder as he carried him away distracting you so much that you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you from behind.

   “Aw, so even you have a heart,” Dante’s arm fell around your shoulders much too familiarly, startling the hell out of you.

  You bristled and immediately jerked to shove him away, only to find that he didn’t even budge--almost like he didn’t even feel it--your hands just stopping right there on his chest.  “What--where--how did you even find me!?”

   Dante’s smile was full of amusement, as if he had some grand secret he was going to keep from you, but instead simply shrugged, “You’re not even five blocks away from your father’s building.  Wasn’t that hard.” Your eyes narrowed on that smile, seeing that he clearly felt smug about finding you so easily. He cleared his throat, directing your attention with a downward flick of his eyes to where your palms were still pressed firmly to his chest without realizing it.

   You jerked your hands away as if he suddenly burned you, hoping that the heat in your face wasn’t coloring your cheeks.  Instead of apologizing for inadvertently groping his (very nicely sculpted, you hated to note) chest, you turned away and began walking.

   “This isn’t going to be a habit, is it?” Dante asked as he fell into step with you.  “You’re gonna give me trust issues.”

   “You could always quit,” you deadpanned, still too embarrassed to look at him.

   “And miss out on you pretending to be a hard-ass?  Nah.”

   You stopped dead and whipped around to face him, Dante halting suddenly as well to keep from bumping into you, “What??”

   “You.  Pretending.  To be. Mean,” he enunciated everything with a smirk.  “But really you’re out here on the street rescuing kids and kittens, am I right?”

_ Damn _ that meant he’d been watching you a lot longer than you thought.  “You don’t know anything about me,” you jabbed a finger to his chest.

   “On the contrary,” that damn smile hadn’t faded yet, “I was given a good bit of information about you.  Y’know...for the job.”

   You couldn’t figure out why he was so infuriating but Dante just made you want to strangle him!  Scowling, you turned again, practically stomping away to the nearest place to sit; happening upon a stone bench and just dropping down on it.  You lazily looked over to see how far behind Dante was, but didn’t see him anywhere, eyes now scanning around for him. Where the hell did he get to so fast…?  Maybe he decided to take your offer after all?

   “So,” his voice suddenly came from behind you, making you jump up to your feet, “what’s the plan?”

   “How…  How did you get there so fast??”

   Dante’s brows rose as if he was confused, “I walked?”

   Clearly unconvinced that he wasn’t pulling some stunt, you eyed him, “Why won’t you get lost?  Obviously I can take care of myself.”

   “If that was the case, your dear old dad wouldn’t’ve hired me.”

   “But I’m telling you that you can go!  I don’t need a babysitter!”

   Dante made a face at that, like he found your choice of words interesting, “What is it, kid?  You had a bad experience with a bodyguard?”

   “I’m not a kid--and don’t try to analyze me!”  You threw your hands up in frustration, hoping he’d get the picture, “How would you like it if you always had someone following you around, reporting everything you do to your father?  To have no freedom? No autonomy of your own!?” When he didn’t respond, your hands gestured towards him accusatorially, “You wouldn’t!”

   “Sheesh,” Dante rubbed the back of his neck, mumbling to himself, “sorry I asked.”

   You felt like you were going crazy, “I’ll convince my father to pay whatever you want--however much more you want.  Just stop following me, okay?”

   Dante couldn’t fathom having money like that to just flippantly throw around, concluding that rich people were just wild as hell.  “Look, kid,”

   “--Y/N.”  When he blinked at you, you repeated your name for him again.  “Not ‘kid’. Y/N. I thought you were given information about me?  You didn’t even bother to retain my name from it??”

   “I was hired to make sure you stay safe.  I don’t really care about whatever else you do, capiche?”

   “How can I do anything else if you’re constantly with me?”  Dante shrugged. “Oh my god, why are you so infuriating?”

   “So I guess you’re only nice to kids, then?”

 

   You were exhausted by the time you returned home, mainly from going back and forth with Dante all damn day.  Maybe that was his tactic? To wear you down so that you’d be too tired to try and escape his watchful gaze. ‘Tomorrow,’ you told yourself, already falling asleep by the time your head hit your pillow.  Tomorrow would be different, he definitely wouldn’t find you.

  
  


   Wishing that you could say you were surprised to see Dante first thing in the morning as soon as you stepped foot outside, you hardly returned his greeting and just adjusted the bag over your shoulder.

   “Lemme guess…  Don’t talk to you till you’ve had your coffee?”

   “Wow, you are smarter than you look,” you didn’t look back to respond, just assuming he’d be following along.  As expected, he was right with you the entire time, looming over you like a tree and you did your best to ignore it.  “What do you want?” you suddenly asked him, breaking the long silence that had stretched between you.

   Dante looked like he might have been asleep on his feet, standing there next to you in line like a statue with his arms folded over his chest and merely hummed in question at you.

   “I asked you what you wanted?”

   “What?”

   You gestured to the board hanging overhead the counter instead of repeating yourself again.  Dante looked confused for a moment, skeptical even. “So you’re saying you don’t want anything?”  There were still a few people ahead of you, so you figured he’d have enough time to decide by then.  But he was just looking at you.

   “You’re serious.”

   “Why would I offer if I wasn’t serious??”  And why was he picking THIS to get weird over after the strange personality he’s been displaying thus far?  It didn’t occur to you for one second that he was just unused to simple niceties--or perhaps he just didn’t expect them out of you.  After you placed your order, you looked up at him, gesturing for him to speak in a ‘last chance’ sort of way and was surprised to hear speak up.  Not so much as you were at hearing the super sweet sounding strawberry whatever he ordered, though.

   At the table you picked to sit at, you were still staring at him like he had three heads till he finally got tired of it, “What?”

   “I just…  I can’t imagine someone like you drinking...whatever  _ that _ was,” you waved your hand up at the menu, signifying his order that you didn’t even remember the name of.

   “Someone like me?”

   “Yes.  Look at you.”  Dante sarcastically leaned back in his seat and glanced down the length of his body, looking back at you with a smile when you scoffed.  “Big, buff, rough-looking guy. Drinking what I can only assume to be something pink.”

   “You don’t like strawberry?”

   “Not in my coffee,” you checked the time on your phone, trying not to be distracted by him.  He was so...bizarre. “Why are you doing this?”

   “Hm?”

   You tapped on finger on the table, fingernail clicking quietly, “This job.  I can tell you hate it already.”

   “Not as much as you do.”

   “But I offered you an easy out.  And you won’t take it.”

   “Not that kinda guy,” Dante shrugged and then got up when he heard the number of your order called, returning shortly after and comically setting the darker of the drinks in front of you.  “Besides,” he lifted his--what you would only very loosely refer to as--coffee at you in a mock toast, “now I owe you.” You rolled your eyes, not letting him know that you were going to make him regret not taking you up on your deal.

   For him to look so unsavory, Dante was remarkably...normal.  You’d expected him to be weird in all the creepy, edgy ways; and yet here he was following behind someone almost half his height and letting her boss him around.  It made you wonder just how much your father was truly paying him. But the answer would have to wait. You opened the double doors to your father’s office, making an appearance with Dante to prove that, yes, everything was going smoothly.  While they two spoke, you excused yourself to the restroom; hoping they were both too distracted to realize that you were up to your same old escape routine.

   Within a few seconds, you were out the window and making your way down the street, and on the lookout to avoid anything that would hold you up too close to the building.  The quickest way you could think of to make the most distance was to hail a taxi and to tell the drive to: “Just go.”

   The driver unfortunately, did just that, dropping you off in some extremely unfamiliar area.  But if it was unfamiliar to you, then surely no one would think to look for you here. The streets here were crowded in different ways.  Instead of people bustling to hurry to their next appointment or job, these people were loitering in various sizes of groups; some around purveyors and some just talking.  It was just so much livelier than the places you visited on your regular schedule.

   “Wow,” a man that you hadn’t noticed before now stepped up in your way as you casually strolled, “can I just say how beautiful you are?”

   You shuffled backwards to keep from running into him.  “Oh. Thank you,” you nodded, trying to step around him and keep moving.  With a sigh, you noticed him starting to walk with you. From one weirdo to another.

   “No, I really mean it!  You’re the most beautiful girl in the world!”

   “Thanks,” you said flatly, not knowing how he was getting the impression that you wanted him to keep talking.

   “Has anyone ever told you that before?  I can’t be the only one who thinks it.” You sighed more audibly this time, hoping he’d get the hint that you weren’t in the mood to make friends right now.  “You should let me buy you dinner, I’d love to get to know you better.”

   “No, that’s okay.  Thank you, though.”  You felt like that should have been the end of the conversation, as any sane person would.  But not this guy.

   He grabbed your arm and pulled you to stop walking, “Now that ain’t very nice of you.  All I’m trying to do is get to know you. How can you say you don’t like me if you don’t give me a chance?”

   “And how can you say you  _ do _ like me when you don’t even know me?”  You pulled on your arm, trying to jerk it away, only to regrettably find his grip unrelenting.

   He didn’t seem to have an answer for that, but he did get noticeably irritated.  “What’s your problem?”

   You finally jerked your arm away and stepped back, “I’m obviously not interested!”

   “You stuck up bitch!”  He made another grab for you, one that you thankfully saw coming and shifted out of the way.  The commotion caught the attention of other people standing around and passing by--and you were amazed at the amount of them that just watched or kept walking.  Only a few people began heckling the guy to leave you alone till he was finally outnumbered enough. An older woman patted your back, telling you that you should be more careful before shuffling off on her way.

   Despite being outside, you were starting to feel a little claustrophobic and began searching for a less crowded area, sitting on a stump you found with a sigh.  There was a lot you were sheltered from, and wandering around unfamiliar streets was definitely one of them; making you wonder just how out of place you really looked in contrast to everyone else’s dressed down appearance.  It was obvious that you were not from that side of town, that much you were sure of.

   Your bag suddenly dropped next to your feet, “You forgot this.”

   Even though it was startling, you didn’t have to look up to know he found you; that voice being all you needed to hear.  You didn’t want to admit that your previous exchange with that stranger had shaken you up a little; thinking of what could have happened had not some of those passersby been kind enough to assist you.  Picking up your bag, you began searching through it, just to give yourself something to distract from thinking about it anymore.

   “You good?”  The way he asked that made you suspicious; evident in the way you looked up at Dante from your seat and narrowed your eyes at him.  “What happened to being able to take care of yourself?”

   “You were watching??”

   “Yep.”  He crossed his arms, “That was pretty...bad.”  You had to stop yourself from asking him why he hadn’t stepped in to help you--that would only negate what you’d been yelling at him for the past two days.  You were embarrassed, but more than that you were unwilling to admit you had been scared. Especially in front of him.

   “I’m fine,” you said curtly, turning back to digging through your bad for nothing in particular.

   “Are you?  Your hands are shaking.”

  You immediately balled your hands into fists before crossing your arms, and not bothering to ask him how he could see such a minor detail.  It was plain to see that there was something very different about Dante, but given his devil may care attitude about it all, you seriously doubted he’d give you a straight answer even if you did ask.  “You can go now,” your voice was as dismissive as you could make it, as if he’d only come to bring your bag to you at your request.

   “Oh yeah?”  He didn’t budge, “And you’ll, what?  Stay here?”

   “Maybe.  Maybe I’ll take another walk.  I don’t know yet.”

   Dante sighed, the first real bit of emotion you’d heard from him so far, and glad he was getting annoyed.  “Look, Princess--”

   “ _ Princess _ ??”  You jumped up, facing him, and not caring that you were revealing to him that you were fighting off tears of having been afraid.

   “You don’t think you’re just a little princess-like?”  Dante replied with that damn smile, “All bossy, and temperamental, and--”

   “Who the hell do you think you are!?”  You cut him off with a raised voice and a pointing finger, “And some damn bodyguard!  Were you going to wait till I got abducted to do anything!?” You regretted the words as soon as they burst from your mouth, but there was no taking them back now.

   “Oh, so you  _ do _ want me to guard you,” Dante stated with raised brows, as if actually surprised.  “Imagine if I’d taken you up on your ludicrous deal.”

   “You’re a bastard,” you threw the strap of your bag over your shoulder and brushed by, shoulder bumping him, but doing nothing to move him.

   Dante stopped you with a hand on your shoulder, “Wrong way, Princess.”  He wasn’t letting you shake his hand off either, “Your side of town is this way.”

   “Who said I want to go back?” You ground out, trying to pull away from him, but making no progress, “Let me go!”  Dante promptly released his grip and you stumbled forward a few steps before whipping around to glare at him. “What are you playing at??”  His face told you to continue, “If it’s just money--I already offered you a way to make even more. Or do you just like aggravating me that much!?”

   “Gotta admit, that is quite the perk.”

   You just stared at him, not sure what to make of that.  “Why!?”

   Dante just shrugged, “You look like you could use some excitement in your life.”

   “If you think that, then why not just let me go, or get kidnapped, or killed, or whatever other stupid thing that happens to people like me!?”

   “Well I don’t get paid if something actually happens to you.”

   “God--just--”  You just couldn’t understand how he was able to push your buttons so easily, “Just leave me alone!”

   “You’re not used to hearing ‘no’, are you?” Dante asked with his head cocked to the side.

  “You don’t know anything about me,” you reiterated that fact again, not bothering to go into details of your underlying anger issues.  Not like he would actually care, or understand anyway. You resumed moving, and not the way Dante had been trying to direct you.

   “Now where ya going?”

   “Away.”

 

   When Dante randomly disappeared again, you took another cab to some undetermined location, figuring he’d find you sooner or later, even if you didn’t know where you were going.  Ending up watching a street artist, you sat far back from the crowd gathered round him, observing both his performance and the amused people. You didn’t even flinch when a large body sat down next to you with a huff, “You went farther than I expected.”  Not acknowledging him until he nudged you with his elbow, your eyes first met his hand that was holding up a lidded strawberry sundae to you before looking at his casual smile; and in his other hand, an identical sundae. “They just gave me two for some reason,” he shrugged, moving his hand to yours to encourage you to take the thing.

   You did so silently, carefully holding it and watching as this huge, over 6-foot tall, guy began happily eating his ice cream.  “..thank you…”

   “Glad to see you’re not always getting yourself into trouble,” he said instead of acknowledging your awkward gratitude.  Because you didn’t like melted ice cream, you joined him in eating; saving your questions for later which came in the form of two empty cups sticky with strawberry sauce and the both of you quietly laughing at the street artist’s finishing moves.  “Heyyyy,” Dante laughed from the ground, lounging back on his elbow in the grass, “I didn’t know you could smile.”

   You rolled your eyes, immediately forcing that frown you usually wore back to your features.  “Why do you keep randomly disappearing and popping up?” you turned to him, tucking your legs up underneath you.  “Getting bored?”

   Dante shrugged, “Figured you’d appreciate time to wander around.  But I still gotta check up on ya.”

   You honestly hadn’t considered that’s what he’d been doing every time you turned and he’d be gone.  It was such a...nice thing for him to do, when you thought about it. It still didn’t make you okay with the fact that you had someone following you around all the time, but you definitely could appreciate that he was at least giving you that.  “You are, by far, the weirdest person I have ever met.”

   “You mispronounced ‘handsome’, but that’s okay.”

   Scoffing to keep from giving him the satisfaction of making you want to laugh, you stood to dust your clothes off and checked to make sure there were no grass stains.  “You staying?” The words were sarcastic as you looked down at him, still just lounging there without a care in the world.

   “Yeah, I’ll catch up,” Dante rolled to his back, tucking his hands beneath his head as if readying for a nap.  “Stay out of trouble. I’m too comfortable to react fast.” You waited till you were turned and walking away before allowing yourself to smile.

  
  


   The following days were more of the same; Dante inserting himself into your daily routine before disappearing for some unknown amount of time and reappearing again like it was some sort of game to see if he could surprise you each time.

   “I still can’t believe you actually work here,” he commented idly, strolling around your office as if admiring the things adorning the shelves, the paintings hanging along the blank spaces of wall, and eventually your view.

   “Can’t be just a pretty face, now can I?”  You didn’t look up from your laptop, tapping away at the keys; too concentrated to find it in you to get offended by the implication in his voice.  It was one you were highly used to anyway--people simply assuming you did nothing of value and just spent your father’s money all day, everyday. Of course the fact that you worked for your father had its own host of rumors behind your back, but you knew it was best to not listen for your own sanity.

   “If you’re here with good ole Dad, why do you need a bodyguard?”

   “I don’t,” you voice was flat.  His laugh as he dropped down to drape himself on your couch let you know he’d been expecting that answer.  “You can leave. I’m just going to be here all day.”

   “I think you’re trying to get me fired.  Imagine what Dad would say if I let you out of my sight in front of him.”

   “Oh darn,” you sighed through heavy sarcasm.  “You see through me so easily now.”

   “Was--” Dante sat up, leaning in his seat in your direction despite being nowhere near you, “Was that a joke?  Are you actually joking back with me?” You rolled your eyes but still didn’t look up from the screen. “Don’t go falling in love with me,” he batted his lashes at you--you could see it from your periphery, “I’ll only break your heart.”

   You glared at him, the first time you’d made eye contact all day, “Don’t you have something better to do!?”

   “Nope.”

   Just as you were readying to retort, your door opened and your father’s secretary walked in, “Ma’am, Astor is here to see you.”

   You bristled at the name of your appointed-for-you fiance, “Tell him I’m not here!”

   “But he already knows--”

   “F-fine…  Just. Tell him to give me a few moments?”  She and Dante had the same confused expression, but for two totally different reasons, neither of which you addressed; waiting for the woman the leave and close the door behind her before abruptly standing and rounding your desk.  “You,” you pointed at Dante as you went to your window, “Help me.”

   “..with…?”  He approached but didn’t do anymore than that, thinking that you surely weren’t about to do something as overly dramatic as climb out a window to escape this meeting of whoever ‘Astor’ was.  But then...when he thought about it, you’d tried escaping him through windows plenty of times now. But those times were significant less dangerous to you, since your office was rather high up in the air.

   Pushing open the window, you stuck one leg out, regretting that you chose to wear a skirt today, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?  We’re going to have to climb down.”

   “Oh, so I’m invited this time?”

   “Unless you  _ want _ to stay here?”  When he looked like he was only going to joke in response, you continued the rest of the way.

   Dante stuck his head out the window, watching you drop down on a rather small ledge that was clearly meant for potted plants or some kind of shrubbery; and taking an educated guess as to why it was kept clear of greenery.  “You’re not actually some assassin for hire that I’ve been duped into being around so you can kill me, are you?” You didn’t respond, almost as if you hadn’t even heard him as you concentrated on carefully making your way down the side of a building not meant to be climbed--especially in a skirt.  And when Dante noticed this, his brows went up in some very real admiration. “Wait… Just hang on a second,” he too hopped down, much less carefully than you had.

   “I don’t have time to play around with you, I--”

   “Okay, okay, don’t get your knickers in a bunch there, just let me help you.”

   “How?  Are you going to make rope out of your jacket so we can climb down?  Just don’t fall, okay?” You were getting ready to precariously place your foot on a little piece of the building that stuck out for aesthetics and definitely not to help someone scale it.  Only stopping when Dante grabbed your arm, you noted how his large hand went all the way around with no trouble.

   “Don’t do anything stupid, all right?”

   “I’m not going to get hurt and make you look bad,” you pulled away, trying to make him let go and hurry down your haphazard escape route.  Unfortunately, you pulled just a bit too hard and nearly lost your balance. Only nearly, however, because before you could even blink, Dante had hauled you away from the ledge you were perched on.  It took you a but moment to realize what had happened; immediately shoving at his chest to force him to drop you from this embarrassing bridal style pose, “Let go! What the hell--how dare you--”

   “Just chill out, will ya?”  His hold tightened as he stepped up on the ledge.

   You realized it looked like he was about to just step off, “D-Dante!?  Wait, what are you--” And he did. This absolute madman stepped off the edge of the platform and let gravity handle the rest.  It was a mere few seconds, but you still felt like you were falling even when his feet hit the ground and the impact shook his entire body.  Somewhere in between those moments, you had grabbed onto him, clinging to him for dear life and holding your breath. Only once he was setting you back on your own two feet did you exhale, hands still tightly wound around his neck and clinging to the leather of his jacket with a death grip.

   “Well if you wanted a hug, why didn’t you just say so?”  Despite his words, he didn’t move to hug you, but he did reach up to pry your hands off him.

   “What was  _ that _ !?” you demanded, now grabbing a fistful of his shirt and pointing up at the ledge he’d dropped from with your free hand.

   “I thought you didn’t have time to play around?” He quirked a brow at you, “And wasn’t that much faster than shimmying down like a lizard?”

   You stepped back to give him a once over, particularly his legs to make sure he wasn’t just pretending to be alright.  But he was just standing there, looking at you with an expectant expression. “Are you actually crazy??”

   “If you’re expecting me to carry you around now, forget it.  I’m not being paid to be your pretty little pony on top of making sure you don’t go flinging yourself off the sides of buildings.”

   Seeing that he wasn’t going to even acknowledge what you were asking him, you grab his wrist and begin pulling him along with you instead to hurry down the street.

 

   “Astor informed me that you were absent when he came to see you.”

   You weren’t meeting your father’s gaze until he mentioned that.  “Is that so?”

   “Where were you?”

   “It must have been while I was out running errands.”  His gaze slipped past you, back to where Dante was standing behind you with his arms lazily crossed as always.  When your bodyguard nodded at him, your father looked to you again--and it didn’t go unnoticed. Your brows furrowed.

   “Perhaps you should have others do those things for you, considering--”

   “What was the point in you hiring a bodyguard if I’m to still stay cooped up like a prisoner?”

   “I hadn’t meant it like that, Y/N,” you father smoothed his tie.  “It is just as well, Astor is still nearby, I’ll send for him.” He didn’t notice you bristling, but Dante did.

   “I’ll just freshen up, then,” you informed him before retreating to the specific restroom that was always the initial part of your escape route.  Just like the times prior, it took you mere moments before you were slipping out the window and bracing yourself against the wall for footing until there were twin grips suddenly on your waist.  It was so surprising that you actually yelped, and would have fallen were it not for the strong hands that were actually able to lift you into the air and hold you there. You twisted your upper body, simultaneously shocked and not to see Dante smirking up at you.  “Wh--put me  _ down, _ you oaf!”

   “You’re just determined to give me grey hairs, aren’t you?”

   You could tell it was meant to make you laugh, but you were in no such mood; kicking your legs in hopes of making it too difficult to support your weight.  He did let you go, but not how you wanted. Instead of setting you down like a normal person, Dante just suddenly released you as unexpectedly as he had grabbed you, then shifting his arms so that you landed in them rather than smacking the ground unceremoniously.  You wished you hadn’t squeaked when he did so--it was embarrassing enough you’d already gotten scared twice already today. “The only way I’m going back in there is if you drag me!”

   A thoughtful look crossed his face, “Hm.  Fair enough,” and without warning, shifted you in his arms to fling you up on his shoulder.

   “Dante!!”  Your fists immediately ram into his back no sooner than being bent over, hips digging into his shoulder.  “Put me down! What do you think you’re doing!!”

   “You said you had to be dragged,” he hooked an arm around your legs to keep you from kicking and trying to worm away.  “Figured you’d rather keep your clothes clean though.”

   “Do  _ not _ take me back in there!  Put me down, this instant!!”  You didn’t even care about the people giving you both strange looks as they passed by; much too busy trying to get this blockhead to listen to you over the orders of your father who had no doubt sent Dante after you no sooner than you’d left the office.  The blood had all rushed to your head by the time he did finally set you back on the ground, making you so dizzy that you had to hold his arm for a moment before realizing you weren’t standing in front of the building’s doors. You were in the parking lot, standing next to a quite intimidating, obviously customized motorcycle.

   He didn’t need to see your face to know how confused you must look, swinging a leg over and sitting prettily before reaching behind and patting the seat behind his.

   “You can’t be serious…”

   “Well, I can always take you back inside if you prefer.”  Dante rested his hands on his thighs, as if patiently waiting on you to make up your mind.

   You couldn’t help but marvel at just how natural he looked; how fitting it was to see him settled atop this crazy looking motorcycle like it was an extension of him somehow.  “We can’t just...walk?”

   “Aw, scared?”  Dante’s smirk wasn’t quite so infuriating at this moment for some reason.  “You don’t trust me yet?” You scoffed and, without another moment’s hesitation, got on the bike.  Waiting for you to adjust and hook your arms around him, Dante revved the bike to life. It was loud and strangely frightening in an exhilarating way.  Taking off at an unexpected speed made you tighten your hold on him, yet the wind whipping around you felt so liberating. You imagined this must be what flying feels like; resisting the urge to lift your arms into the air to simulate having wings.

   When he was pulling a stop and turning off the engine, you realized that you once again had no idea where you were, but Dante seemed as comfortable as ever; sweeping back his hair to fix what the wind had done to it.  You did the same, but with a bit more care, as you followed along after him and finding yourself eventually seated at a small iron table. As if this was all some sort of casual, planned date, Dante didn’t seem to be worried in the least.  He was just happily drinking his beer across from you like this was a normal occurrence. “Why did you bring me here?”

   He paused, setting his glass down, “Because this is the best slice you’re ever gonna get.  Trust me.”

   One side of your mouth drew up in suspicion, knowing he couldn’t have possibly thought that’s what you meant.  “No. You brought me here instead of back inside my father’s office. Why?” You thought he was just going to flippantly make another joke, or subject change, but the smile seemed to just melt right off his face.

   Dante leaned on his arm, “Because.  Whoever Astor is, he clearly either scares or unnerves you.”

   You were, to put it mildly, a little terrified of how easily he seemed to come to that conclusion--shocked didn’t even begin to cover the feeling.  You didn’t ask him how, having learned enough about Dante by now to know that there was something about him that didn’t permeate the surface and he probably preferred that.  You just hadn’t expected it to give him such an adept ability to read you. “I just don’t like him,” you played it off with a shrug.

   And he let you.  There was plenty Dante could have pointed out, but he remained silent, almost eerily so in contrast to the ever-present lazy smile and sharp wit you’d grown accustomed to.

   “He’s a friend of my father’s, so I  _ have _ to pretend to be nice…”

   “Don’t gotta explain anything to me,” Dante leaned back in his seat and stretched one leg out under the table; you knew he did because your knees brushed.  You hated how comfortable he made you feel.

   “There’s nothing to explain,” you said flatly, looking down at your phone at as it buzzed yet again.  You’d accumulated quite a number of missed calls and texts since ditching, contemplating if turning the damn thing off would start a panic.

   “Certainly not.”  When you looked up at him, Dante still had that pensive look on his face.  It made him seem mature and reliable--you didn’t like it how it made your insides flutter.

   “Stop making that face,” you blurted out without meaning to.

   “What face?”

   “That one,” you gestured towards him, “like you’re expecting me to tell you seem deep, dark family secrets.”

   Dante’s brows shot up as he leaned forward on one elbow again, and just like that was back to his usual demeanor, “Why, do you have them?”  You rolled your eyes, propping your chin up on your palm and looking off to the river on the other side of the street. “We could trade,” he chuckles, and you’re not sure if he’s serious or not.  Before you can respond, the waitress returned, setting down the pizza between you and wandered off again. The conversation wilted a bit while you two ate, mostly due to the fact of your discovery of your love for pizza--something you weren’t normally able to eat in your up-bringing.

 

   Walking along the river afterwards, however, freed you both to speak.  “Think he’ll be gone if we go back?”

   You checked your phone, not having received any new messages or calls in the past twenty minutes, “Maybe…”  In truth, you didn’t want to go back not only to avoid a chance encounter, but you begrudgingly found yourself enjoying these moments of tranquility.  With Dante present. You couldn’t pinpoint when you’d started preferring that he stick around instead of disappearing for unprecedented amounts of time before popping back in to check on you; but you found yourself unable to admit it aloud regardless.

   “You’re the boss,” Dante watched as you inched towards the edge of the bank, “I’ll take you back whenever you say.”

   “Dante,” you crouched down before just sitting, deciding that you didn’t care if you dirtied your skirt anymore, still not looking away from the flowing water.  He watched you for a long moment, trying to decide if you were going to say something he was going to have to dodge since you so rarely called him by name if you weren’t yelling in surprise.  When you didn’t say anything else, he finally took the hint and came closer before dropping down next to you much less gracefully. “I really don’t understand why you didn’t just take me back inside.”

   “I told you already,” he picked up a rock and casually tossed it into the river.

   “Yes…”  Slowly--carefully, you turned to look at him.  “But, why? Why do you care?” You watched his brow arch as if considering his words carefully; yet another trait you hadn’t expected out of him.  “You’re only paid to make sure I don’t get kidnapped or hurt, so why--”

   “Because it looked like you were hurting.”  His gaze shifted, seeing that you were looking right at him and, instead of returning the gesture, hooked his hands behind his head and dropped to his back.  “I dunno what went on between you and Astor, but you looked like you felt unsafe when he wasn’t even in the room. And my job is to keep you safe.”

   You didn’t know what you’d been expecting--but you absolutely hated his answer.  You hated that he made you feel comfortable. You hated that he made you feel safe.  You hated that he had this uncanny ability to read you better than the people who’d known you all your life.  You hated that the only reason he was in your life was because of it being his job. And as soon as your wedding is over, so too would his job be.  You hated the fact that someone you had only known in a week’s time had made such a big impact on your normally so structured life. Turning away from him, you looked out along the river again, resisting the burning urge to drop your guard enough to do something as ridiculous as laying back with him.  “Dante…” He pretended to not notice the troubled quality of your voice. “Take me home. I’ll deal with Father tomorrow.”

 

   He had that same pensive face as he walked you to your door.  For some reason it made you nervous, but when you tried to ask him about it, he just waved it off as you being paranoid.  He didn’t want to worry you by expressing that he had a bad feeling, but he just couldn’t shake it off.

   You frowned at him, trying to determine what that look in his eyes meant.  It could have been anything, to be honest, but it truly seemed like he was dying to say something, but was holding back.  Suddenly, he cracked that smile that aggravated you so much throughout his time with you, motioning with a nod of his head for you to go inside.  You didn’t point out that the motion didn’t reach his eyes. “Thank you…” you hesitated for a moment before continuing, “for helping me.”

   “Just doin’ my job.”

   “Still.  Thank you.”  With that, you went and hid inside from him, closing the door behind without looking back.  Even though there was no one to witness your expression, you still covered your face with your hands and sighed into them; telling yourself how stupid you were being for letting yourself be tempted by childish things.  “What’s important,” you said out loud as if to set yourself right again, “is that you have thus far kept your composure…”

   “In regards to  _ what _ ?”  A disembodied voice questioned from the darkness just before a light clicked on, “Because it seems to me as if you have been behaving rather foolishly as of late.”

   If you hadn’t already been leaning against your door, you would have backed up into it from being so suddenly startled.  Like a horribly predictable film noir flick, Astor sat in the chair by the lamp he’d turned on--where you normally sat to read and have coffee on lazy Saturday mornings.  The only things missing were a trilby on his head and a gun in his hand to complete the cliche scene.

   “You don’t look happy to see me,  _ Darling _ .”  You pursed your lips, if only to keep yourself from retorting in an ‘unlady-like’ way, and straightened to stand on your own so it didn’t appear like you were unnerved by his presence.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been avoiding me. You wouldn’t do that,” he stood and smoothly approached, only stopping once he had completely invaded your personal space; one arm resting up on the door next to your head, the other dragging the tips of his fingers up your arm, “would you?”  Your natural response was to move away, but Astor’s hand came up to the other side of your head, caging you in between him and the door.

   “I’ve just been busy,” your throat was dry.

   “Yes, you do keep yourself quite occupied, don’t you?”  You were trying to phase through the door. “Don’t worry, Y/N.  Once we’re married, you’ll never have to worry over such menial things again.”

   “What?”  Despite the horrid lack of space between your faces, you still looked at him, “What do you mean?   
   “Surely you don’t think you’ll be doing all these ‘errands’ and wasting your time ‘working’ for your father once we’re married.  There’ll be no need.”

   “I think I can decide that, Astor…”  With him right in your face, you were certain he didn’t notice your hand behind your back, fumbling with your phone.  You’d need a chance to look down at it if you hoped to dial anyone useful--or anyone at all for that matter.

   “Cute,” he leaned in further, dragging his lips up the side of your neck, causing a violent shiver of disgust to ripple through you, “but just leave the decision making up to me.”

   You lifted your arm, bracing it across his collarbones to push him back as far as he would allow it, “I’m not a child.”

   “I would hope not,” Altsor’s smirk grew, “not if you are to be involved in the plans I have for you.”  He brought his hand over yours before gripping your wrist tightly. “Though I must admit, this maiden’s rule of ‘until marriage’ you impose is a bit...difficult.  Especially in moments like these--” His front pressed flush to yours, pushing you back against the door, and allowing you to feel  _ every _ part of him.

   You pushed again, only able to create the sparsest of spaces, “Stop.” 

   Astor backed away, but not to give you any reprieve.  He tugged on your wrist, pulling you forward along with his movement backwards, “Why don’t we acquaint ourselves just a bit more closely?  Surely there is no  _ rule _ against that?”

   And just like that, with him looming and forcing you to step forward, years of self defense knowledge seemed to just disappear; immediately leaving your brain blank and panicked as you tried jerking away.  His hands gripped your shoulders, forcing you close again and crushing his lips to yours. The motion jostled you enough that the phone slipped out of your grasp and landed with a soft thud behind your feet--and face down.  Pulling away the best you could with a hard jolt, you glared at him, “Let. Go of me.”

   “Your feisty behavior does you no favors, my dear.”

   “I’m not being ‘feisty’, you simpleton!  I’m telling you to get your hands off me!”

   You watched his expression morph from arrogant to angry in a matter of moments; fingertips digging into your arms, “Your father would do well to teach you to mind your manners.”

   “As would  _ yours _ ,” you tried pulling away from him again for emphasis, but Astor jerked you back in place.

   Some of his meticulously styled black hair fell over his forehead from the motion.  “I will teach you your place in all of these dealings. When this has come to fruition, your father will--”

   “ _ Stop _ ,” you interrupted, not wanting to know what all they did out of your sight.  You knew it was dangerous. You know it was most likely illegal. And you wanted no part of the knowledge.  Nor did you want to hear out loud that you were little more than a bargaining chip to solidify a concrete, safe, position for your father in whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into.  You just wanted to disappear.

   Behind you, your phone began ringing, but Astor still didn’t release you, making it clear that he wasn’t going to let you answer it.  “You can’t turn a blind eye for much longer. Just like you will find that your mouth  _ will _ cause you much grief.  Very soon.” Your cell phone stopped ringing, the silence somehow louder than the ringtone.

   When he began pulling again, you pulled in the opposite direction, trying again to wrench your arms free of his grasp.  “Till that day comes, you  _ will _ release me!”

   Behind you, the door that you hadn’t gotten the chance to lock opened, “Knock knock, kiddo, you didn’t answer your cell so--”  There was a hard pause that fell over Astor, you, and Dante standing in the doorway. “Oh.” It gave you enough time to finally react properly, shrugging your shoulders inward and crossing your arms briefly to jerk free of Astor’s hands before stepping back a few times.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dante’s eyes hadn’t left Astor’s yet, “but you forgot your office keys.” He finally looked at you as he held up a hand, keys dangling against his palm from hanging round his middle finger. You looked at the simple keyring, and the few keys that were on it with a furrowed brow; none of them looking familiar to you.

   But before you could tell Dante he was mistaken, Astor straightened his jacket, then his hair while clearing his throat.  “You must be the bodyguard.” He put his hand out for Dante to shake after taking a few steps forward--you quickly shifted away to counter the closeness.  Without hesitation, Dante too reached out, grabbing the other male’s hand in a firm shake.

   “Guessin’ you gotta be ‘Astor’,” Dante responded, not reacting to the fact that a strange look crossed the shorter’s face before he jerked his hand back from Dante’s grasp; flexing his hand as if it hurt.

   “Yes.  And we were just about to have a conversation, so--”

   “Oh, don’t let me interrupt,” Dante said with a smile as he walked right passed Astor to take a seat.

   “Ah.  Well, I meant you may leave.  Why don’t you take the rest of the night off?”

   “No can do, Slick.  She’s my responsibility till your little shindig kicks off.  So, until then, where she goes, I go.”

   Astor seemed to be running through the same exact bewilderment you had when first interacting with Dante, who was making himself comfortable and crossing an ankle over his knee.  “You mean to say that you’ve been staying here, then?”

   “Oh, sure.  How else would I make sure no  _ creeps _ try to get at her in the middle of the night?”  Something glinted in Dante’s eyes, and his smile wasn’t exactly friendly anymore.  Of course it wasn’t a good observation since you had known him only a week, but the thought that he looked secretly terrifying crossed your mind.

   Astor seemed to take the hint on Dante’s emphasis of the word ‘creeps’ and straightened his jacket again.  “Very well. I will leave you to your duties.” He then turned to you, expression much less polite, “And I will see you tomorrow, my  _ dear _ .”

   Your fists clenched at your sides, finding it extremely difficult to resist the urge to slug him.  You were honestly just glad he didn’t try to kiss or hug you before departing; glaring at him all the way out the door and only once it clicked shut did you allow yourself to actually react.  With trembling shoulders and shaky hands, you moved to grab your phone from the floor; somehow not hearing Dante standing and moving closer. You jumped when you stood and turned to find him suddenly  _ right there _ .  In reflex, your hand went out to shove him away, finding yet again that he seemed unmoveable.  He did, however, step back for you. “You okay?” his voice lacked any of the teasing or sarcastic qualities he normally spoke with.

   “I’m  _ fine _ ,” you choked out, trying to force yourself not to cry in front of him.  But the stress was so great, and the fear so consuming--you were terrified to speculate what would have happened if Dante hadn’t shown up.  You hadn’t raised your head to look at him yet, not trusting the tears not to fall if you did, and checking your phone if only to give you something to focus on.  Indeed you saw that Dante had been the one to call you and swiped open your call long before pausing. The entry before the missed call was also to Dante, having lasted a few minutes based on the timestamps; his call logged in only seconds later.  Without thinking, your head snapped up, eyes finding his concerned gaze and immediately regretting it. “..you heard…” It wasn’t a question.

   “Did you like my acting?” Dante suddenly jingled the keys in his hand at you before pocketing them.  “Told you I’m a man of many talents.” The attempt to make you laugh didn’t reach; instead you stepped forward to close the space he had given you and leaned your forehead against his chest.

   You could feel him pause, not knowing how to get your voice to work anymore and ask him to hug you; hating feeling so weak as to need one to feel better.  This wasn’t part of his job--your emotional well-being was beyond his pay grade. ‘ _ He’s just doing his job’ _ , you told yourself in your mind over and over like a mantra.  And yet, you still found yourself reaching out to grab hold of his wrists and tugging them.  Dante’s arms were a little stiff, but seemed to just seamlessly melt around you once you finally whispered as fiercely as you could, “ _ Please _ .”

 

   Waking created a whole host of other problems.  Immediately overcome with regret and embarrassment, you buried your face in your hands despite the fact that there was no one to hide from.  You recalled it all so vividly; from practically forcing Dante to hold you till you could stop shaking, him telling you about what happened and how he knew to come back, then offering to tuck you in, and you asking him to stay.  You hated how safe he made you feel, but you supposed that was how a bodyguard was supposed to make anyone they’re charged with protecting feel. You slid out of bed to wash your face, brush you hair and teeth, and didn’t bother dressing as you ventured downstairs to make coffee since it was still so early.  In the kitchen, you set your coffee maker to perform it’s programmed functions before rooting around a bit in your fridge before deciding you didn’t quite have an appetite; not after yesterday. While waiting for your coffee to finish brewing, you wandered to the living room to open your curtains--and froze in place.

   There, sprawled across your sectional sofa all long-legged and shirtless, was Dante.  Still passed out. You had figured he’d just leave after you fell asleep, wondering how late he’d stayed awake if he was able to sleep through you none to quietly shuffling around in the kitchen only moments earlier.  The blanket he’d grabbed to use was practically falling off of him, more than half of it pooling on the floor from draping over one thigh and the edge of the couch. At the opposite end of the couch was his jacket and shirt, boots on the floor nearby.  And him, oblivious to the world, just snoozing with one hand tucked under his head, the other resting on his ribs. Seeing him like that...was a bit astonishing. You’d known he was muscular just from looking at him, but seeing his bare torso put it into quite the perspective.

   You turned away quickly, realizing you were taking advantage of him, and--“Morning, Sunshine,”--of course that’s when he wakes up.  Much more slowly than before, you looked back at him; just in time to see Dante hauling himself to sit up and stretch with a big yawn.  His smile was sleepy (and still somehow handsome?) as he just looked at you, waiting for a response before you realized you were just blatantly  _ staring _ .  To remedy this, you turned on your heel and made your way to the window to open the curtains as you had originally intended.  The room brightened with the morning sun and Dante yawned again, “Please tell me it’s not time to clock in yet.” You stopped yourself from smiling as you looked back again, seeing him stretching his legs out and slouching as if he was readying to take a nap despite having just woken up.

   “No,” you lied before leaving to go back to the kitchen; letting Dante decide if he wanted to join you or not.

 

   “Well that’s not office attire,” Dante called up as you descended the stairs and backing away once you were down.

   “I’m not going to the office today.”  And that was most certainly not because you had a feeling Astor would show up again today.  “I’m working from home...” At least that’s what you’d told your father through text and hadn’t waited for a response to approve the decision before just acting on it.

   Dante quirked one brow at you, “Oh yeah?”

   “Yes,” you answered flatly before moving towards your home office, laptop in hand, “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to.  I highly doubt I’ll be leaving here today.”

   He noted that you were really laying your cold demeanor on thick this morning--even more so than when he’d first met you.  “Can I,” He smirked when you looked over your shoulder, “take a nap?”

   “That’s fine.  Use my bed if you’d like, the curtains are blackouts.”  You didn’t stick around to see which decision he made, making a beeline straight for the room in the back you’d designated as an office.  Only after a few hours of crunching numbers and typing till your fingers felt numb, Dante wandered in as well. He inspected the room much like your office in your father’s building, seemingly scrutinizing every choice before finally coming and sitting in front of your desk.  He turned the chair backwards, straddled it, and propped one arm across the back, and stared. “ _ What _ ??”  He had to have known by now that staring annoyed you.

   “Just checkin’ on ya.”

   “You have to  _ stare _ at me to do so??”  Dante’s smile was amused and you unwillingly noted how soft his lips looked.  “If you’re waiting for permission to leave, don’t. Just go.” ‘ _ And stop looking at me like that _ ,’ you wanted to add.

   “Stop me if I’m wrong,” he paused to judge your expression on if he should continue the thought.  Luckily you looked curious enough, “That ‘friend’ of your father’s.” Your expression hardened. “He’s the guy you’re marrying?”  Your face expressed for you that you were shocked that he knew that already. “Your dad told me about...the arrangement.” He watched your gaze fall back to the screen of your laptop.  “I figured you’d probably not be happy about it all when I heard, but… Didn’t think it was that bad,” he ended with a sigh.

   “I don’t need your sympathy.”

   “Nah, that’s not what I’m saying.  But...does your father know? About... _ him _ ?”

   You didn’t need him to say anymore than that to understand he was asking about how Astor took every opportunity to try and force himself on you.  Your last thread-thin defense was that you were the type to wait till marriage. And even that was beginning to fall apart, “Yes.”

   Dante’s face became unreadable for a good few seconds before he nodded.  “And you’re just gonna go along with it all, huh?”

   “Don’t meddle in things that aren’t you business.”

   In spite of it all, Dante chuckled, “Well  _ excuse _ me, Princess.”  When you scoffed and started typing again, Dante rested his chin on his arm and watched you in silence for a while before eventually meandering off to the couch again to take another power nap.  Except this time he woke up with a pillow he hadn’t grabbed beneath his head, and the blanket tucked around his waist to prevent it from falling off so easily.

  
  


   When you told him: “We have a few places to go,” Dante didn’t imagine you’d be dragging him along on these wedding planning excursions even though it’d been nearly a month of being around you.  At most, he figured that you were going to do some stress-shopping and he was going to be meant to carry the bags, since bodyguarding had truly turned out to be a glorified guard dog. Sitting through these little meetings on details of seat placement and doilies was the last thing he would have thought he’d be doing today.

   “And!  We just so happen to have the cake!  Would you like to sample to make sure you’d like to stay with the flavor?”  Before you could tell her that it was all right, the plucky woman was already leaving her seat to fetch it; obviously wholly unused to a bride-to-be not caring about the flavor of cake.  With a sigh, you checked your phone, relieved at the lack of messages and calls. “Here we go,” her voice was a mix of annoying sing-song, and pleasant cheeriness. “This is one of the more popular flavors so I’m sure you’ll be very happy.”  You smiled the best you could, trying to figure out how to tell her that you didn’t want to try it because you both did not care nor were you happy about this entire situation. “And it’s so lucky to have your fiance along with you! What a treat!” She giggled as she wandered off again, presumably to give you privacy to discuss cake, of all things.

   “Wha--no, he’s not…”  But she was already gone, happily buzzing about cake to her coworker.  You sighed again, hoping that you weren’t blushing at the ridiculous situation.  “Sorry,” you said without looking to your left where Dante sat, ankle perched across his knee.

   “Well, don’t keep the lady in suspense,” he gestured at the slice of cake.  “Don’t think she’s gonna come back till you try it.”

   “I don’t want to.”

   “Not a fan of cake?”

   “Sure.”  Your tight response was more than enough to let him know that you didn’t want to be here participating in something that was supposed to signify joy and happiness when all you could feel was misery.  He also knew the answer to his rhetoric question was bullshit because he had seen you eat cake for dessert before. It was more refined and complicatedly crafted than the simple slice setting before you, but it had been cake nonetheless.  Dante reached forward and grabbed the plate, took the fork to cut a piece off and then held it up right in front of your face. “Wh-what are you doing??” you jerked your head back.

   “Say ah~” Dante was trying not to laugh as he wiggled the fork in front of your mouth.

   “Cut it out--” you hushed your voice even more as you shifted in your seat to counteract him continuously inching the fork towards your lips.

   “Aw, c’mon, Sweets,” he nodded with his head, “it’d make the cake fairy over there so happy.”

   You were scrunching your nose at a multitude of things--being called yet another ridiculous nickname, the cake in your face, and his insinuation that you should care what would make some stranger happy.  At his persistent smile, however, you rolled your eyes and finally opened you mouth for Dante to slip the cake right in. Instead, he smushed it against your nose and lip. “D-Dante!!”

   He laughed loudly, dodging your attempted return of rubbing icing in his face.  “Cheater!” he grabbed your wrist, “I was only using one hand!”

   “Welcome to the real world!” you retorted, almost succeeding in smearing it across his cheek, not realizing that you too were smiling and laughing along with him.  Dante eventually had to capture both your hands in his to keep you from trying to sneak attack him, pulling your arms and holding them out so that you couldn’t even attempt to touch him with your frosting-coated fingers.  The maneuver had pulled you out of your seat in practically into his lap; one knee against his chair, while your other was pressed against his thigh. You only noticed the predicament when realizing how close your faces were; hovering there over him for a moment as if internally struggling to back off or not.

   “Give up?” Dante broke the silence, smirk smug and confident.  Across the shop, the two clerks were giggling together, oohing and awing at the “cute couple” as he released your wrists and prepared to dodge any sudden movements.  You instead grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped your hands off, as if coming back to your senses and now thoroughly embarrassed by your behavior. When his chuckle became obviously pointed, you looked up at him, grin spreading across his face.  “Missed a spot,” he indicated vaguely at your face. When you still missed wiping it away, Dante shook his head and just simply reached over to wipe the cream from your face with a rough thumb. Instead of wiping it away on the napkin, however, he brought his thumb to his lips and licked it!  You felt the heat instantly rush to your cheeks and quickly dropped your gaze down to your hands to try to prevent him from seeing it. “Oh!” You didn’t dare look up, “That  _ is _ good.”  He picked up the plate again to eat a legitimate bite of the cake with a satisfied little hum.  “Sure you don’t wanna try it? No tricks.” He even offered it over to you in a show of good faith that he’d behave.  Rather than take the fork from his hand, you once again simply opened your mouth; poised to let him feed you. Dante’s eyebrows quirked up at the sight but said nothing; slicing another piece from the cake and properly filling your awaiting mouth with it.  “See?”

   Strawberries.  No wonder he liked it so much.  “I suppose you’ll know what to get for your own wedding,” you mused quietly, eyes going to the approaching woman who was still all giddy from the previous ruckus you two had caused.

   “So when was the big day again?”

   Before you could answer, or change the subject, Dante suddenly reached over and easily covered both your hands with one of his own.  “Just a few months,” he smiled lazily at her, missing how you narrowed your eyes at him in question.

 

   “What was that?”  You demanded once you two were out on the street again.  When he only hummed, you gestured to the shoppe you just exited, “Inside.  Why did you pretend we were getting married??”

   “Oh, just messing with our cake fairy.  She was a cutie.”

   “So...you were trying to flirt with her...by pretending to be marrying someone else?”  Perhaps trying to understand him was an insurmountable task.

   “Why?”  Dante chuckled, “You jealous?”

   “No!”  You seemed offended by the very notion that you would ever see  _ anything _ in him; storming off down the sidewalk and onward towards the next destination.  You didn’t even wait for Dante to hold the door like he’d previously done and just went on inside, as if not caring if he was following along with you or not.

   Amidst all the pale colors and flowing garments, Dante stuck out like a huge sore thumb; all clad in dark rugged clothing and obviously not feminine.  Yet he sat with amazing poise, flipping through one of the magazines that was unfortunately geared towards women who wanted to be married, but it was at least something to look at besides his own reflection surrounded by dresses.

   “Oh it’s wonderful.  Are you going to show your fiance?”  He heard the employee asking, expecting to next hear you correcting her assumption, but was surprised when all you said was:

   “N-no...I don’t think this one looks right…”

   “Nonsense!”  The clerk insisted, “It’s beautiful on you, let’s give him a little peak!”  She was leading you by the hand from the dressing room, rounding the mirrored corner just as Dante was closing the magazine and looking over.  “What do you think, hubby??” the woman gestured to you, standing there stiff and pink faced, looking far away from everyone, “Doesn’t this style of dress look gorgeous on her??”

   You chanced a glance at Dante, unable to study his expression, but able to at least note the slack-jaw, brow-raised, owlish blinking look he was giving you.  “J-Just...Just say if it looks bad!” You resisted the urge to stomp your foot with the command.

   Dante smiled, the motion seeming to light up his whole face, opening his mouth to speak only to find his voice not working.  He cleared his throat and tried again, “No no, it looks… You look beautiful.” The, at least what you perceived as, sincerity in his voice and expression proved too much for you in that moment; quickly turning away and rushing back around the corner to hide your blush.

   “Now remember,” you listened to the woman playfully chastising Dante as you stared at the floor, having been unable to look at him since the compliment, “that wasn’t THE dress, so don’t go getting any ideas about peeking before the big day, young man!”

   He chuckled at the woman, winding an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his side, “I’ll try my best.  Ready to go, Princess~?” he lilted at you, giving your shoulder a playful little squeeze.

   Outside, you didn’t even bother interrogating him this time, completely under the assumption that he was just honestly trying to get under your skin at this point.  You checked your phone habitually, noting the time before putting it back in your bag again.

   “What?” Dante questioned the back of your head when you began moving, “Not gonna fuss at me this time?”

   “Do you want me to, or something?” you answered with your own question without stopping or looking at him.

   Dante took a large step to bring his stride right alongside yours, nudging your arm with his elbow, “Aw, don’t be like that, Sweets.  You look much cuter with that blush on your cheeks.” You pursed your lips to keep from reacting and began walking faster; the pace absolutely nothing for Dante’s long legs to keep up with.  “Where to next, Boss?”

   “The florist.”

   “You don’t seem to be doing anything other than double-checking things…” he observed idly, not surprised when he didn’t receive a response.

 

   Despite knowing by now that Dante was 100% unpredictable, you were still somehow surprised that once inside, he became immediately preoccupied with the red roses of all things.  “I’ll be over here if you need me,” he’d said distractedly, legitimately admiring the flowers as if he was a regular floral consumer. Keeping inside the burning question of what the great interest was, you decided to hurry this along since you’d much rather be doing just about anything else than having to confirm all these details and appointments that you had absolutely no care of.

   The desk the florist handling your account had you sitting at was behind a few tall shelves, so when you heard a voice up front instructing on your whereabouts, you figure Dante got bored after all and had come looking for you, not even looking up at the introduction of your ‘fiance’ until you heard him speak.

   “A pleasure,” Astor smiled charmingly as he reached out to shake the florist’s hand.  She was so taken with his appearance that she didn’t notice your almost-horrified expression.  Nor did she notice you looking passed him for Dante, relieved to see him standing there. His body language was relaxed and nonchalant, hand on his hip with all his weight on one leg; his eyes, however, were sharp and trained directly on Astor, you realized once moving in your seat and noticing his gaze not following you.  Only after a few long moments of intently staring at him did Dante’s gaze shift over to you, head inclining in a tiny nod and thereafter immediately watching your actual fiance again.

   You turned back to the florist once Astor was settling in the seat next to you, casually slipping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to lean against him.  Having to stop your lips from curling up in disgust as you lowered your gaze to your hands that were folded into your lap; listening to the two of them since he was immediately taking over the conversation--which was fine.  It’s not like you’d wanted to be here doing any of these things anyway, and now this was just one less problem for you waste your energy on.

   Upon exiting, and trying not to crawl out of your skin due to Astor insisting he walk with his hand on the small of your back, you merely looked up at him when he mentioned he wanted to speak with you.  “ _ Alone _ ,” he added, casting a glance at Dante who was not very far away.

   “Don’t let me stop you,” he held up his hands in a show of not interfering.  “The floor’s yours.”

   “In  _ private _ ,” Astor clarified, using his eyes to indicate that he wanted Dante to walk away.

   “Fine, fine,” the devil hunter turned, waving over his shoulder and wandering off, though making sure you at least stayed in view.

   Reaching around to push Astor’s hand away so that you could properly face him, you said nothing and merely waited for him to say whatever it was he needed to tell you.  “Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked, lifting a hand to brush a bit of hair from hanging over your temple. You leaned your head away, preventing him from touching you, and let that be your answer.  His eyes narrowed a bit in agitation, but he continued smiling. “I’d heard you were verifying the wedding plans and thought I should join you.”

   “I’m already finished.  That was the last item to check.”

   “My my, what a busy girl you are.”  He moved closer, hand moving again to run his fingertips along your arm, “You should let me reward you.”

   You counter by stepping away to avoid his touch yet again, “I’m busy.”

   “Did you not just tell me this was your last stop?”

   “Yes.  But these are not the only things I have to do.  I have other responsibilities beyond making sure your party goes as planned.”

   This time, Astor didn’t give you the chance to move away, quickly grabbing hold of your arm and pulling you closer by it.  “Your pretty face will not save you if you do not learn to control your tongue.”

   “Are you threatening your fiance?”  Astor smirked at you, letting his silence fill you with dread.  “Sorry you wasted your time,” you added, not meaning it, as you pulled away from him; sort of surprised he let go so easily and only assuming it was because Dante was still nearby.  “I have to go.” He didn’t make an attempt to stop you, shifting out of your way so that you didn’t bump into him when you moved around him, and watched as you went straight to Dante, who all but ignored him and put an arm around your shoulders to lead you away.  Astor also noted how you didn’t move or even try to knock Dante’s hand away as you would have done to him.

  
  


   The next day, Dante couldn’t decide whether he was relieved or disappointed there weren’t a ton of useless errands to run.  On one hand, it was super silly and dumb to run into all those shops, and on the other it was super boring just having nothing else to do.  He knew he should have counted himself lucky that you weren’t a natural trouble magnet, or some self-endangering clutz, but he kind of already missed messing with you and the clerks simultaneously, but supposed he’d just have to settle for annoying you--after you finished your coffee, at least.

   “I don’t know how you can eat sweets first thing in the morning,” you mumbled before taking a careful sip of your steaming drink.

   Half a donut in hand, and the other half in his mouth, Dante shrugged, “Sugar is energy.”

   “It’s a wonder how you’re not an old obese man…”

   “Jeez...if you want me to go on a diet, just say so.”  He watched you roll your eyes, “Is this the part where I find out that I was just supposed to be your trophy husband and that you lied all these years about not caring if I eventually let myself go?”

   “Shave and I’ll think about it.”

   Dante couldn’t help but laugh.  These little victories of getting you to tease back was really getting him through his day when nothing was going on.  And yet...he still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease this morning; going out of his way to not tip you off the whole while.

   A car suddenly crashing into a building across the street after running a red light caught both of your attentions, Dante putting a hand out in front of you instinctively and using his fingers to signal for you to step more behind him.  You did so, still peeking around him to look at all the commotion and suddenly unable to yelp for help when a hand was reaching out from behind you and clamping over your mouth. Faster than you could even reach out and grab Dante’s coat, your arms were forced behind your back and something hard jabbed into your stomach.  The pain was sudden and intense, making your vision blurry and your entire body weak; unable to fight being pulled away and eventually tossed up on someone’s shoulder that quickly darted into a nearby alleyway. The sounds of the emergency across the street made the perfect cover.

   Dark liquid gradually pooling around his boot made Dante look down, then behind; finding you gone and your cup abandoned on the ground; coffee splattered in indication of being dropped.  He cursed none too softly, taking a survey of the immediate surroundings before determining his next move.

 

   You were coming-to enough to create issue not long after being abducted; finding your hands bound behind your back, and a bandana shoved in your mouth and tied around your face to keep it in place.  Immediately you began flailing the best you could, and luckily because your would-be assailant decided to haul you around with just a hand on your ass instead of properly bracing you, he couldn’t keep his grip.  You slipped from his shoulder and though you unfortunately hit the ground, the adrenaline pumping through your veins propelled you to your feet and down the opposite way he’d been taking you. What you hadn’t expected was the warning shot that hit the wall next to your head.  You halted, looking back and seeing the ski-masked man pointing a gun right at you now. “Don’t make me kill you, bitch. You’re much more useful to me alive.” You glared at him, only remaining silent due to being gagged. “If you try to run again, I will shoot your knees.” He motioned with the gun for you to come closer, “Don’t make me ask twice.”

   Half of you wanted to take the chance that he was a terrible shot and would miss you if you took off again; the other half didn’t want to call his bluff and was inclined to believe the accuracy of that warning shot.

   He seemed to be able to tell when the fight left you, “Yeah, thought so.  That bastard is gonna hafta pay a pretty fuckin’ penny to get you back unharmed.”

   A sharp whistle echoing around the alleyway cut through the tension like a hot knife.  Both you and the thug looked to and fro, trying to find out where the hell it came from before you just had the feeling to check skyward.  Gaze shifting up, you saw the silhouette of someone on the rooftop and automatically knew you were saved. Like a cliche superhero, Dante landed right between you and the gunman with great flourish, standing with a completely lackadaisical posture; hands raised in a preemptive shrug and careless smile on his face.

   “What the hell--” the gunman aimed at Dante.

   “That’s my line, punk,” he put his hands to his hips and shifted so that you were completely blocked from the line of view.  “There are better ways to get dates, you know.”

   “Shut up!  This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you!  So if you wanna live, you’ll get the hell outta my way and just let the girl come with me!”  When Dante sighed loudly, it seemed to piss him off even more. “You want your brains splattered all over the wall, you dumb fuck!?”

   “Hey, now,” Danted chided, reaching into his jacket for a moment, “that’s no way to talk in front of a lovely lady, is it?”

   “I’ll kill you both--!!”  His words choked off into a startled gasp when something was flying at him; stumbling backwards in surprise and gun firing off into the air just as the rose landed right on his face and in that same instant, Dante was  _ right there _ .  In one swift, smooth movement, he’d reached up to force the gun out of the smaller’s hand and shoved him so hard that the masked man landed on the ground with a painful sounding thud.  Even though you’d been standing right there watching, you hadn’t actually  _ seen _ what happened, it all went so fast.

   Spinning the hand gun around his finger before grasping the handle and aiming back at him, Dante just smiled; giving the other a bit of time to process what was going on.  Once the kidnapper realized he’d been scared by a simple rose, he glared defiantly up at Dante; pride injured more than anything else. “I’ll give ya a head start,” Danted cocked the gun, “Whaddya say?”

   “Y-you…”  The gunman shifted, “You wouldn’t…”

   “No?”  Dante squeezed the trigger, bullet piercing the ground right between the space of his thumb and forefinger pressed to the ground, then cocked the gun again, “That’s the only warning you get.”  He normally wasn’t into hurting humans, but even Dante was willing to make a bit of an exception if this punk didn’t take the chance to escape. Luckily, he saw the terrifying expression in the devil hunter’s eyes for what it was and scrambled up to his feet before turning tail and taking off--without his ransom target.  Not wanting to simply discard something with his fingerprints all over it, Dante turned the safety on and shoved the gun in his belt as he turned back to you and took a breath at the sight.

   With the implications of what would have happened had he not, yet again, intervened weighing on you suddenly, you dropped to your knees with a choked sound.  For a moment there, you had actually been terrified that you were going to be killed or successfully kidnapped again.

   “Guess I shouldn’t have went for the dramatic entrance,” Dante murmured as he took a knee in front of you before reaching over and removing the bandanas from your face.  “You okay?” he frowned slightly at your unresponsiveness. “Lean forward a little bit, gonna get your hands.” He didn’t expect you to move and said it more as a warning that he was going to come closer, so he went forward instead, reaching behind you and not saying anything when you closed the rest of the space between you two by leaning into him.  Your head was up under his chin, face hiding in his neck; slumping forward when your arms fell loosely to your sides.

   For a moment, neither of you moved.  Dante holding still and letting you decide what you needed; you trembling and trying not to let your emotions take hold of you.  “Th-thank you…” you managed shakily, and almost too quiet to be heard.

   You felt him laugh once rather than heard it.  “You really thought I was gonna let some idiot kidnap you?”  When you didn’t respond at all, Dante lifted a hand to pat your back.  “S’okay, Sweets. I won’t hold it against you, this time.”

   You hiccuped.  Dante forced himself not to wince at the pathetic sound; still not moving even when he felt your hands move up his arms before digging your fingers into the leather right above the inside of his elbow.

   He took an educated guess that you wanted to feel secure and put his arms around you without prompting this time.  “Aw, you’re tougher than this, aren’cha?” You nodded. “Just trying to catch your breath, right?” You nodded again, biting your lip to stop any sounds from making it out.  “That’s my girl,” one of his hands bracing your shoulders patted lightly, voice smooth and reassuring. “I was just honestly making sure you didn’t beat the poor kid to a bloody pulp.  Wouldn’t want you to end up in jail for murder.”

   At that, even you had to laugh, shaky and quiet as it may had been.  But hearing even that made Dante feel relieved; taking a deep breath and just waiting for you to sit back on your own.  When you finally did, your face was devoid of tears, but your eyes and red nose still held the telltale signs. He benevolently overlooked it, watching to make sure you weren’t about to faint as you stared back with a muted expression before shifting on your knees so you could lean up.  Dante’s brows quirked up when your hands smoothed up the trail of his arms as if guiding your way closer. And as your hands tightened on his shoulders, you paused in front of his face, thinking to yourself how easy he was making it to let you kiss him; just sitting there allowing you to move in, his hands on your back neither encouraging or discouraging whatever it was he assumed you were about to do next.  Your lips pursed and you curled forward, slipping your arms around his neck and hiding your face against his shoulder. “Thank you…” you whispered as his arms came back around to hold you.

  
  


   It’d taken about two days after the latest incident for you to return to ‘normal’.  Having your emotions run rampant after all these years of choking them down and making yourself into an unapproachable ice queen was tiring, and you were trying to figure out how to keep them from surfacing around this very unconventional man.  There was just something about him that threw all your efforts on remaining emotionless and unbothered right out of the damn window.

   “Y’know,” Dante began through a yawn as he stretched his arms and legs upward from his spot on the office couch that was much too short for him, “this is more like I’m being paid to be a really clingy boyfriend instead of a bodyguard.”

   “You look ridiculous,” you returned flatly, even though you didn’t even look up from the printed document you were reading.  Still laying on his back, Dante let his limbs flop down as if gravity was just too much to bear anymore, draping sloppily over the ends of the couch and sprawled.  In the beginning you might had scolded him and made him sit upright, but now...you were just used to it.

   “Your dad had me believing I’d be living some real life action movie…” he grumbled, tucking his hands up under his head and crossing his ankles.

   You sighed at the paper, pushing off from standing against the edge of your desk and going over to the couch.  “Didn’t I warn you the very first day I met you?” you mumbled distractedly as you motioned with a hand for him to move.  Instead of getting up, or sitting up to give you somewhere to sit, Dante simply raised his legs to form a perfect ‘L’ with his body, waited till you sat down, then lowered them again to drape back over the arm of the couch due to his height.  You didn’t even seem to notice at first, more or less ignoring his long legs trapping you, and even leaned forward on them as you continued studying the numbers lining the paper. Dropping it down on his shins like some sort of table, you rubbed the back of your neck with another sigh; growing increasingly annoyed with these incongruent finances.  At this rate you were going to have to interrogate the entire accounting and finance departments to see if there was some missing information from these reports you were given.

   “Yeah, but you didn’t  _ really _ warn me hard enough,” he sighed too, much more exaggeratedly exasperated.  You leaned an arm on his legs again, propping your chin up on your fist and continued rubbing at your neck in agitation--a tick you didn’t even know you’d possessed.  “Numbers not addin’ up, Boss?” You only hummed, afraid to break your concentration and staring intently at the paper right up until Dante was suddenly moving his legs; purposefully letting the paper-clipped documents slip between the gap he created between his shins.

   “Dante!”  You shot him a glare before moving to grab the papers; huffing a breath when he used his leg to pin you to the couch.

   “Why don’t you take a break?  You didn’t even eat lunch.”

   “You’re my bodyguard, not my mother.  I have to get this figured out--” he still wasn’t letting you up, “ _ Move _ .”

   “What??”  Dante’s brows rose in dramatic fashion, “ _ You _ came over here in  _ my _ space!  You have that whole big desk to use and you wanna steal this tiny couch from me!?”

   “Oh my god,” you tried pushing his leg away, finding that just like the rest of him, it seemed unmovable.  “Will you just--”

   “I have an idea,” he suddenly sat up, waiting till you finally gave into defeat and looked back at him with the most unenthused expression he’d ever seen in his life.  Finally moving his legs from closing you in--and making sure to plant a boot on the papers--Dante shifted to give you room to move. “Turn,” he motioned with his finger, making a little circle with his index while pointing down.

   Your brows knitted in confusion.  “What??”

   “Just--”  Grabbing your shoulders, he pushed on them till you finally relented and turned, putting your back to him with a sigh.

   “I don’t have time--”  Your voice immediately died when his hands came down on your shoulders, close to the crook of your neck on each side and squeezed.  The sudden sensation ripped a sound from your throat, making it clear that while you hadn’t expected it, you emphatically enjoyed it.  Behind you where you couldn’t see, Dante quirked a brow and repeated the action; feeling you shudder beneath his hands as your head dipped forward a bit.  He continued kneading your shoulders and neck, watching as your posture grew more and more lax between the pleased sounds you weren’t even trying to hide anymore.

   He’d expected a little stiffness just from watching you constantly rubbing your neck today, but not like the faint muscles you possessed were made of stone, “Jesus, kid, how the hell do you even move being  _ this _ tense?”  The response he got was a long, throaty hum, which he accepted as a compliment; digging his thumb into a particularly strained part and immediately had to stop himself from pausing when you suddenly gasped and lowly moaned his name.

   It took you a few moments, but you too realized what you sounded like and immediately bristled.  Luckily he couldn’t see your face, so you could just stand up and exit the room to regain your composure, and--strong hands pulled you back down before you could even get up.  “...I--”

   “You’re still stiff as all hell, Sweets,” he answered casually, but in a much softer tone.

   You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know how you’d ever be able to relax, but he proved you wrong.  In almost no time, Dante had you slouching again; this time pursing your lips to try and circumvent another mishap as he worked his magic on your stiff shoulders.  After a while of not saying anything, or even making a noise, he snorted, “You fallin’ asleep on me?”

   “Not yet,” your voice was almost a whisper, answering back before he could make any snarky quips about you needing a nap and reaching up to press your hand over his that was still working your neck.  You squeezed gently on his knuckles, waiting till the ministrations slowed to a halt before tightening your grip and pulling his hand along the curve of your sleeveless shoulder and downward still.

   “Want your arms too?” he asked with a little laugh, as if he was amused by the thought.

   Instead of answering him, you tossed your hair to one side and shifted back into him; not stopping until his chest was flush to your back.  He was doing his usual of holding perfectly still while figuring out what you were up to, gaze boring down on you as you reached for his hand that was still planted on your arm.  Without a word still, you pulled his hand inward until his gloved palm was perfectly fitted over your breast. And without waiting for an order, Dante’s hand habitually flexed; eyes hooding when you arched into his touch.  His free hand slipped up over your ribs before joining and mirroring his other, kneading and massaging both handfuls as if this was a normal part of the routine. You reached upward and behind, holding on to his neck with one hand, the other at the back of his head and pulling him downward.  You could feel his stubble prickling your skin right before his lips touched--soft as you thought they’d be. He kissed a sure line up your neck, lips just reaching your ear when his hands shifted so that he was gently pinching and pulling forward on the hardened buds of your nipples. A gasp fell from your lips, finally breaking your vow of silence as your fingers curled in his silver locks.

   “So,” his lips brushed over the shell of your ear as he spoke, “how long you been planning this?”

   Instead of answering him, you turned your face to his, palm pressing his cheek to position his lips for you to more easily kiss.  You didn’t wait for any awkward pleasantries, tongue immediately darting out against his own and biting at his lower lip when he pulled back.

   Dante chuckled breathlessly, “It’s too bad you decided to lose your morality in a public building.”  Yet his hand contradicted the statement as it smoothed down your front, fingertips slightly splayed and with the same lack of hesitation you were displaying, slipped right under the fabric at your hips.  Without shame, you spread your thighs, allowing his fingers all the room they needed to slip right against your clit and immediately fall into slow circular motions. Your hips lifted towards his hand and Dante was suddenly reaching up to cover your mouth; palm cupping over your lips and chin easily and leaned your head back against his shoulder.  He let you grab at him without complaint, smirking at your hands every so often changing targets to cling to as you tried bucking up for more than he was giving till you finally had enough of being teased. Reaching down behind you, your palm found his trapped arousal and mercilessly began fondling him through the material. He hummed darkly--almost growled really--against your ear, “You really wanna go there, Princess?”

   The sound you made from behind his hand was muffled and impatient that immediately switched to an agitated groan when your phone began ringing.

   For a moment, you both shared the same thought of just ignoring the damn thing, but when you withdrew and lowered back to the couch, Dante followed suit; retracting his hands from you and watching you go to the desk to answer the phone, marvelling at how well you were able to sound like you weren’t breathless and needy.  His eyes raked over your body, hand on his dick, now that he felt he had the okay to do so and drank in the sight of your figure, noting how your shoulders were now slumping.

   When you turned back to him, it was impossible to not notice his hand in his lap, and you scoffed--much more playfully than you would have before.  “My father needs me,” you sighed, going through the measures to straighten your clothes and hair. “You can stay here and…” you glanced down at his hand again, then back up (while resisting the urge to bite your lip), “rest.”

 

   It wasn’t terribly long after that Dante was joining you in your father’s office; the two of you so engrossed in your conversation, neither of you seemed to notice his entry.  “What do you mean  _ next week _ ??” you voice raised, hands out at your sides in disbelief.

   “There’s no need to yell, Y/N,” he sighed, expression clearly stating that he’d expected this reaction.  “It is simply sooner, is all.”

   “Four  _ months _ sooner!”  You couldn’t believe how he didn’t understand the upset.  “Tell him ‘no’, it’s impossible to do all that’s needed!”

   “Well, he did mention that you told him all the preparations were finalized.”

   “Then tell him I refuse.  The date has significance.”

   “And that would be?”

   You hadn’t expected him to ask that, but was able to lie smoothly enough, “I can’t explain these things.  The date is just something a girl picks, like her dress. It has to be perfect, or else it is a bad omen.”  He sighed again, looking torn between believing you and not wanting to deal with you. “Father, please,” you tried again, “it’s important.  If I am to be forced into this, the least I can be given is choice of when.”

   “ _ Forced _ ?”  Your father seemed offended, “I thought you and Astor got on very well!”

   You couldn’t help but scoff at that, “You’re joking…”  Taking a step back, you couldn’t decide if he was being honest or not.  Surely he couldn’t have believed that this is what you wanted--this arranged marriage in this day and age that was simply a formality to induct your father and you into the family you were marrying into.  When his expression didn’t change, you felt your anger reaching a boiling point. “You honestly think the only reason I’m doing this isn’t because of you!?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond, hips bumping the edge of his desk as you stepped forward--it’s thick surface the only thing keeping you from snatching him by the collar.  “You honestly think I want to be involved in whatever shady dealings you’re forcing my hand into!? I want  _ nothing _ to do with it, or  _ him _ !”

   “My daughter, I only want what’s best for you--”

   “And I suppose when I come to you with bruises and battered bones, you’ll tell me it’s ‘best’ for me that I don’t anger my husband!?”  His stunned silence only angered you all the more. “I love you, Father--it’s the only reason I agree to do any of this. I fear what may happen to you if I refuse.  But at the same time, I--” You couldn’t stop the words, even though you instantly regretted them as soon as they left your mouth, “--I hate everything about you!” With that, you turned, unwilling to let him see you cry and practically running right into Dante, whom you hadn’t expected to be standing there behind you.  The look he was giving you--pity and sympathy--made your insides clench as you brushed passed him and stormed out of the office.

 

   “Well that was intense,” his voice came from behind you before finally stepping up and plopping down next to you.

   You hadn’t looked away from the rushing water yet, just letting the sound of the river be your answer as you sit with your knees drawn up to your chest and hugging them.

   “I’m supposed to ‘double’ my efforts to make sure nothing happens.  Apparently you’re not the only one up in arms about it being pushed up to next week--”

   “--Please.”  When he paused, you continued, “I’m not in the mood to talk about it.”

   He leaned back on his elbows, stretching out on the ground.  “What’re you gonna do about it?”

   “Dante--”

   “It’s not gonna go away just because you ignore it, or don’t talk about it.”

   “I  _ know _ that,” you turned your head to glare down at him.  “But, god, does it  _ have _ to be the only thing I get to think about!?  Can’t I just have one damn moment for myself!?”  When he was silent, you turned back to the river, hating that you lost a bit of your temper on him, but not apologizing either.  “I’ve fought  _ so _ hard to make my life my own,” you said quietly, not even sure if he could hear you, “and now…  I’m about to throw it all away in one afternoon.”

   Normally his response would be to tell you to just not do it, but after that exchange he witnessed with your father back there...he could understand a bit better as to why you put up with all the shit you did from Astor.  There were details and critical information he was missing, for sure, but Dante felt like he could piece together the puzzle just fine from what he did know. “Okay,” he laid back, tucking his hands up under his head. “So take your moment.  You know I’m not gonna stop you, unless you’re about to do something incredibly stupid.”

   With his okay to keep an eye on you while you ran wild through the city, you did the only thing you could think of wanting in this moment and moved to swing a leg over his hips and sitting there.  “Is this stupid?” you asked rhetorically, smoothing a hand from his hips up towards his chest.

   Though he didn’t react surprised, the slow opening of one eye and looking up at you clearly told you that he hadn’t expected it.  Dante lifted one hand, curling his finger at you, “C’mere.” You leaned forward, hands braced on his chest and face burning with the anticipation of what someone as wild and free as Dante would do, but when he simply curled his arm around you and dragged you down to lay with him, you blinked.  With your head on his shoulder, Dante put his hand back under his head, but didn’t stop yours from wandering his chest as you pleased. “You know I don’t have a problem helping you--with whatever you need. Just...don’t let it cloud your judgement.”

   You paused, looking up at him from his shoulder to see him still looking skyward, “What?”

   “I don’t mind bein’ your stress relief, but you--”

   You sat up faster than he could blink, “Stress relief??”  His eyebrows went up, seeing that you were offended by that word choice, but like your father, you didn’t give Dante a chance to respond, “I get it--it’s fine.”  The next moment you were getting up, dusting off your butt and legs and immediately began walking away.

   You didn’t look back, not even when you heard him sit up and call your name--your  _ actual _ name for the very first time--and just kept walking.

  
  


   Your last exchange with Dante had left you wondering if you had overreacted too much.  Given that it had been three days ago and you hadn’t heard from, or seen him since. His texts went unanswered and his phone when straight to voicemail.  From what you did know about him, it seemed so uncharacteristic of him to just ghost someone for getting upset with him--but maybe he was under the impression that you didn’t want him around.  After all, he’s made it very clear on multiple occasions that he was more than capable at watching you from afar, so his lack of contact could have just been that. ‘Just as well,’ you told yourself.  If he only viewed you in passing fancy, it was better that you didn’t have a chance to make the situation worse than you already had.

   Shoving your laptop away with a frustrated huff, you decided to take a break from these never ending numbers and made for the kitchen.  Luckily your father had agreed to let you work from home this past week, but you supposed that could have been because he didn’t want to be around you either.  You smiled bitterly to yourself as you pour coffee into your mug, musing how you had again successfully pushed away anyone who you deemed as close. Admittedly, your relationship with your father had been hanging by mere threads, but it was just fitting for everything to go to hell all at once.  You sighed into your mug as you lifted it to take a sip, only just now tuning into the TV you’d left on as background noise in an attempt to distract yourself for a while. The marquee running along the bottom of the screen caught your eye before the voice of the newscaster did; noticing Astor’s name sliding off screen.  You stood in front of it, remote in hand and turned up the volume, catching the anchor in the middle of speaking.

   “--although there are no accounted deaths at this time, there were numerous reports of critical and noncritical injuries.  The assailant apparently is still at large, and unknown.”

  “That’s right, Sabina,” her co-anchor chimed in, “it was indeed a scary moment to see an entire organization be taken down, but for an underground crime ring to be uncovered as well?  Unbelievable!”

  “There are reports of citizens of the city calling this incident an act of vigilante heroism, Marcus.”

   “Well that remains to be determined…  More on this story later as we gather more details--”

   You muted the TV, sitting down in stunned silence as familiar names flashed across the screen, accompanied with images of property damage, as well as photos submitted by civilians of people being arrested for whatever crime ring was uncovered.  And there, right up front, you were able to see Astor looking rough as hell; like he’d been in a tussle that was more along the lines of being used as a punching bag than anything else. Your ringing phone startled you, almost making you drop your mug as you tentatively turned the device over to read the name of the caller.  “Father?”

   “Y/N--have you seen the news!?  What in the world happened!?”

   “I...I don’t know, I just happened to catch the end of the report…”

   “You must come here at once.  We need to discuss what is happening!!”

   “Yes, of course…”  You looked back at the muted screen to see the reporter on the scene, the police still arresting multitudes of people in the background, “I’ll be there shortly.”  Hanging up without waiting for his response, you took a moment to just stare at the screen, letting what you did know sink in and mingle with other suspicions you’d had up till now and wondering if your father was privy to whatever crime Astor was involved in.  The logical answer was, of course, yes; otherwise there would have never been a good reason to offer the hand of his only daughter to a crime lord. And all this time you had thought it to be over money.

 

   It didn’t take you long to get dressed and office-ready, but you were still dragging your feet.  In no hurry to face your father in light of the very difficult conversation you knew you were going to have to have with him; lingering in front of your door--oh wouldn’t it be wonderful if some unknown event prevented you from getting to the office?  You opened the door and were met with the bright, clear day you’d been unaware of up till now due to all your drapes being drawn.

   You stepped out, locked the door, and turned to begin down the stairs, only to pause when something weird shifted under your foot.  Pushing your sunglasses up on your head as you looked down, your breath caught; immediately looking around and seeing no one of import, beyond the few people making their way down the sidewalk.  You even looked up--hopeful--to the surrounding rooftops and still saw no one. It was hard not to be disappointed; reaching down and carefully picking up the brightest and most beautiful red rose you’d never laid eyes on that was obviously left there for you with intent as you cradled it’s velvety petals in your hand, and thankful you hadn’t stepped on its blossom.

  
  


**\---Epilogue**

   It was unclear how time had passed so quickly since the day you’d entered your father’s office with a presence of a goddess on fire.  Coming to learn that he’d been well aware of the goings-on with your ex-fiance and his cowardice allowed him to fall prey to their threats had been a hurtful revelation.  One you had to take in stride as you declared that he was no longer fit to hold dominion over an organization of people who relied on him--let alone over  _ you _ .  Board members and stockholders backing you up and bolstering your ideals to separate business practices away from all the underhanded dealings made the transition easier as you took up the responsibility of his seat.  It was stressful work, but work that you were proud of nonetheless.

   “Ma’am,” your secretary’s soft voice chimed in over your desk’s intercom, “your nine o’clock has arrived.”

   “Thank you,” you answered, quickly pulling up his file to refresh your memory on his name and proposal, “send him in.”  The door opened shortly afterwards, just as you were able to locate and read his name for a proper greeting. “Good morning, Mr. Redgrave, it’s a pleasure to…” your voice slowly died off when you looked up to smile at a potential new business partner, only to be met with the sight of The Legendary Devil Hunter standing there.

   He chuckled as your mouth hung open in shock and put a hand to his hip, “Lookin’ good, Boss.”

   Without a word, and still looking at him as if he was an apparition, you slowly stood up before rounding your desk and going straight towards him.  Instead of a warm reunion, however, Dante’s brows rose a bit when the first words out of your mouth were:

   “You bastard!  How  _ dare _ you just show up here after that stunt you pulled!?  You just disappear without a word, without any explanation of what the hell went on, you didn’t even TRY to return any of my calls or texts--and don’t think for a second that I don’t know that you had something to do with Astor’s--”

   The world was spinning in a flash.  Dante’s arms were around your shoulders as he dipped you far enough backwards that you would feel compelled to hang onto him; lips covering yours and relishing in the fact that your reaction was to reach up and run your hand along his jaw instead of hitting him.  All complaints had left your mind for the moment as he smirked down at you, letting you thread your fingers through his hair all you liked. “Missed you too, Princess.”

   “I’m still very pissed at you,” you tugged on his hair to urge his lips back to yours.

   “Take it outta my pay,” Dante murmured just in time for you to lean up and steal his breath away.


End file.
